The transition of life, seems like a pause never ending
Midway in a sandy desert and overhead sun so scorching.
A thirsty traveler craves for a droplet
With his bottle so shamefully empty
And search for a shade in a cactus field
Beneath a fiery sky with clouds so scanty.
Still he has to search on and on,his body bent with pain
Not so certain of destination, not so certain of what to gain.
Neither can he rest in peace, nor can he sleep
The only thing he could do is to dream,
A delirium of a sea blue and deep.
Can he manage to reach the sea someday;
Only a magical wand can guide him to the way.
Where the caressing waves will kiss
His dry lips and smoulderd forehead
The sweet tune of a messiah's flute
Will inflate with ethereal air in the lungs so exhausted.
But neither can he be a dreamer, nor a soporific
He has to be pragmatic and try hardest to be realistic.
Be it a sore eye, be it a blister-ous foot,
He bears it all by himself, just like an unseen root
Flourishing blossoms, sky rising boughs and green shoots.
May be the Almighty showers him with all the might
To carry on his quest for a silver lining
At the end of each stormy night.
The passerby riders would never stop their horses by him
And query about his needs.
They don't have time or patience
To lend a listening ear or a hand for heed.
They'll never know that time is passing by
The sun is about to set.
The traveler could never quench his thirst
With not much, but just a few droplets.
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